James came home for lunch, and said, with his usual cheer, “HA! You always thought the lung cancer would kill me–but instead it’ll be Lyme disease!” and rolled up his pant leg to reveal that overnight, his tick bite had metamorphisized into a gigantic red bullseye.

James already had a doctor’s appointment, but I’m getting him to call and see if he needs to be in right away. As we wait ten minutes for the doctor’s office to re-open to seek advice, one must contemplate–how the HELL do people get Lyme disease and not realize it? That thing’s the size of a friggin’ meteor crater.

Well, thank god we caught it in time to treat. I hope.